Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I’m the donkey tied with ropes and being sodomised in front of the church tree, While the choir chants praise to the god who bled, cried and died for all innocent creatures like me. I’m the roasted torso lying in a morgue, Reminding the politician whom I died voting for, That my death wasn’t in vain. That, no sir, sometimes pain doesn't always translate to gain. I’m the aborted fetus dancing to death’s tune down the drain, A product of the death of love and the glory of lust is all that remains. I’m the football field turned into a bloody battle field, When friends turned into foes at the face of tribe and politics. I’m the cart pusher pushing my life through an accusing crowd, A crowd that dismissed my degrees as unworthy of a white collar job in a glass house. I’m the virgin vouching my virginity for a smartphone, For that is the closest I’ll ever get to see heaven, In a world where love is for sale, And hate is dished out for free especially if you're a female. I’m the coffin lying impatiently waiting for your last breath, For the only certain path for every man is death; Whether rich or poor, Poet or puppet. I’m the jobless youth lighting bonfires in the city street chanting 'Haki Yetu' anthem, Shielding machetes to the system, The same system that condemns my generation of being carefree, Yet it’s the same system that raised me. I’m the divorcee stranded at a country bus stage with seven kids, Whose estranged fathers couldn’t clothe and feed. I’m a love letter to an ex-lover, Gathering dust on the shelves of a broken heart. A reminder of the death of love, A love gone by, A love that shouldn’t have died, A love that could feed starving souls, A love that could nail a broken door, A love that could shelter the homeless, And reward the fearless; A love that that doesn’t judge, Condemn or hold a grudge, A love that money stole from us, While we were busy searching for life’s abstract meaning in the stars. I'm the death love, Man has tried to ressurect thro' material wishes of things he'll never have, The love they try to define in music and art and poetry, I'm the death of love hidden in distorted history, The Love that is alive in every universe, A love that is within us. A love that lies untouched. A love that can be awakened, If we reach deeper within ourselves, And re-invent; and redeem ourselves, And acknowledge who we really are: The gods of love.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)